Overcompensation
by Shauna1
Summary: Gimli, Glorfindel and Gandalf start a war, throw a party, and search desperately for Mary Sue, but not necessarily in that order.
1. Overcompensation

Overcompensation  
by Shauna  
  
An attempt at Parody.  
  
***  
  
Gimli son of Gloin could not, for all the orcs in Mordor, figure out exactly what had gone wrong with the Fellowship. It had started out fine enough, what with the pretty elf-maidens bidding him goodbye as he waited for his companions to arrive. But soon his sense of unease began to grow.  
  
Gandalf, ever punctual, was the first to join him. He tipped his hat in greeting, then settled down with great complacency to watch the grass grow. When Gimli tried to strike up a conversation, Gandalf said that while he'd like to share in every detail what he was doing, he in fact did not *know* what he was doing.  
  
Gimli shrugged it off.  
  
Aragorn wandered in next, but there was something funny in the way he walked. It wasn't his usual Stride, but rather he seemed to have something tied around his nose, jerking it up into the air...  
  
"Hello, Aragorn," Gimli greeted him.  
  
"Your Highness," Aragorn snapped.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You will address me as Your Highness. And you will not speak until spoken to, as is the way of the," and here he shuddered, "common people."  
  
"Ara- Your Highness, are you feeling okay?"  
  
"It is not any of your business how I am feeling, serf! Get you gone!"  
  
Gimli went to ask Gandalf what to do, but the wizard just stared at him, confused. "I don't know," he said.  
  
"I do," interposed Boromir, who had appeared beside them. "His repressed desires have been until now manifesting themselves in a subtle but nonetheless obvious savior complex, whereas the expression of them now is through domination and haughtiness. I suggest anger management courses."  
  
"I... didn't know you were so analytical, Boromir," Gimli murmured.  
  
"I didn't know." Gandalf echoed. Gimli looked at him curiously, he was about to ask the wizard something, when there was a great noise behind them.  
  
"Ooompf!" came a strangled elf cry, and Legolas crashed into the clearing.  
  
Feeling a strange compulsion to go help him - after all, he was a dwarf, and dwarves had great love for elves - and not the least surprise at his untowardly entrance, he hurried over to where Legolas lay.  
  
"I'm okay, I'm okay," the elf moaned, clutching his ankle. "I, erm, I sort of tripped."  
  
Gimli asked, disbelieving, "What happened to you?"  
  
Legolas was, indeed, a mess. His hair was a tangled knot of leaves and burrs, his face scarred by prickers and slightly puffy, his knees skinned from where he had fallen. He was most unattractive.  
  
"Gandalf?" Gimli questioned the wizard, but then stopped himself. "Yeah, yeah, you don't know."  
  
The hobbits were the last to show up, and you could hear them before you could see them. Their sharp, bickering voices rose over the trees of Rivendell.  
  
"You know, Frodo, the fellowship has probably already left without us! What were you doing with Bilbo?"  
  
"I was *practicing* the fine art of ringbearing, Sam."  
  
"What do you mean, practicing?" Merry interjected.  
  
"One has to suffer with dignity, bravery and a good amount of wit. One has to learn the most attractive sort of brood for their features. One has to - oh, well, you wouldn't understand!"  
  
"Just because I'm a simple gardener, you mean?" Sam replied, even more angry now. "Well, I have a right to be treated like a hobbit, just like all of you! I'm going to form a gardeners union when I get home, which should be quite soon, because we've without doubt missed the trip!"  
  
"I think that they're there, or else their quest would be useless," Pippin extrapolated, trying to calm everyone down.  
  
"What, Pip?"  
  
"You're worrying, but your worry is without cause."  
  
"Emmm..." by now the hobbits had appeared in the clearing.  
  
"It's obvious that the Fellowship could not begin its journey without Frodo."  
  
"Would you just shut up, Pippin? Just shut up!"  
  
Gimli looked at the hobbits warily, who stared back at him with wide, innocent eyes. He felt they should have been cute, but they were just creeping him out. He said, to all the bobbits, but Pippin in particular, "Are you okay?"  
  
"We are!" crowed Pippin. "We're glad to be here, which is better then where we were."  
  
Which did nothing to alleviate Gimli's worries. He turned to Gandalf and questioned, "Isn't there anything you can do?"  
  
"I don't know," said Gandalf.  
  
Somewhere on the other side of the clearing, Legolas fell down. Again.  
  
This was too much. "Don't you know *anything*, Gandalf?" Gimli cried.  
  
All of a sudden Gandalf stood up straight and began speaking rapidly. "This is a plot island. We must hurry."  
  
"A plot island?" the rest of the fellowship asked in unison, except Legolas who was sucking a bruised finger and whimpering.  
  
"Yes," replied Gandalf, "as opposed to a plot hole? Oh, never mind. In any case, I will try to explain to you as much as I can, without losing my aura of mystery."  
  
"Well?" Gimli prodded him.  
  
"Oh, right. The island seems to be coming to an end. I can't - it seems that we're all acting the opposite of our stereotypes -- I can't quite remember -- we're -- trapped in a world -- backlash for bad fanfiction -- overcompensation -- " he fell silent. Then he said, "I don't know." He sat back down.  
  
"What do you think he meant?" asked Legolas, who then sneezed. "Ugh, allergies. Must be why I feel so bloated." He patted his elven-wine belly.  
  
Gimli was too busy trying to decide how this all fit together to be disgusted. Okay, so Legolas was now ugly. That made sense. And Gandalf was useless. That, too, made sense. But what about Frodo and Aragorn, who were off in the corner forming a mutual admiration society, which of course His Highness was the President of? And what was with Pippin?  
  
"I see the sea, the sea sees me," the hobbit was singing.  
  
And hey, what about himself?  
  
Oh, that's right. He didn't have stereotypes. His mere existence in this story was the opposite of them.  
  
"If we two might intrude," Pippin said, walking up with Sam. "We seem to be too few."  
  
"What?" Gimli asked, counting. There were, indeed, only eight of them. Who was missing, was it Merry?  
  
Gandalf jumped up behind them. "Another plot island! Small one this time. In payback for every tenth member of the fellowship story, we seem to be losing members. Gimli, you must - " he paused, then looked blank. "I don't know."  
  
Gimli groaned.  
  
***  
  
End Part 1  
  
Do you like so far? Flames, crits, and gushing all welcome! Also, did you notice that I let myself get into the game, too?  
  
*** 


	2. A Really Large Plot Island

Overcompensation  
by Shauna  
  
An attempt at Parody.  
  
Part II  
  
***  
***  
  
  
Gimli sat down on the grass, trying very hard to think the situation through. Legolas sat down next to him, absent-mindedly picking his nose. Gimli was grossed out. It takes a lot to gross out a dwarf.  
  
Boromir, looking sympathetically at both Gimli and Legolas, came over to join them. He put a hand on the elf's shoulder and said, "Listen, honey, if you ever need someone to talk to - "  
  
"No!" snapped Legolas, "Why do people see me and just assume that I'm a loser? Why can't they see below the surface? There's more to me than my looks. Maybe I'm actually trying to help the situation!"  
  
Boromir took Legolas' hand and nodded, but the elf yanked his away. "That's right," said Boromir, "let it all out. It's okay to cry."  
  
Not able to take it anymore, Gimli jumped up and walked towards Pippin, who was sitting talking to Gandalf. Perhaps the hobbit had been able to get something out of him.  
  
"Now, what's wrong with this sentence?" Pippin was saying.  
  
"I don't know," said Gandalf.  
  
"I haven't even said it yet!"  
  
"I didn't know," said Gandalf.  
  
"Well, at least try it. The boys hair was short."  
  
Gandalf looked blank.  
  
"The boys hair was short."  
  
"I don't know," said Gandalf.  
  
"It's missing an apostrophe. Don't you see?"  
  
"Pippin!" Gimli cried, "What are you doing?"  
  
"Teaching him his grammar."  
  
"What? At a time like this?"  
  
"Good grammar is vital! Good - adjective, grammar - subject, vital - opject, is - copula."  
  
"Pippin!" was all he could say. While he stood there, feeling helpless, fortunately - or unfortunately, whichever way you saw it - Sam came up holding a long scroll of paper.  
  
"Their Highnesses, Aragorn son of Arathorn and Frodo son of Drogo request the following - "  
  
"Wait," Gimli interrupted. "Frodo isn't royalty."  
  
"He says to tell you he's the ringbearer and you'll call him what he damn well pleases. Ahem. They request the following things." Suddenly Sam paused and began winking furiously at him. He whispered, "Say no. I'm fomenting rebellion."  
  
"What?" Gimli was getting very tired of saying that.  
  
"Come on, we've got to rise up against the tyranny of the nobility. Join with me, brother."  
  
"I'm with you, sister!" said Boromir, coming up behind them. He was holding Legolas' hand.  
  
"Help me," Legolas whispered. "He tried to braid my hair."  
  
Fortunately - or unfortunately, whichever way you saw it - Boromir had tried brushing it first and his comb had gotten tangled in the dirty snarls.  
  
Boromir tried to hug Legolas. Legolas tried to get away and fell down. Boromir tried to hug Sam. Sam kicked him.  
  
"Sweetie, violence is not the answer!" Boromir scolded.  
  
Almost weeping now, Gimli knelt before Gandalf. "Please, Gandalf, help me. I don't know what to do. Help me before more people start disapearing."  
  
Although, considering, that might not be such a bad thing...  
  
As if hearing his prayers, Gandalf snapped to attention, and began speaking very rapidly, "Listen closely, son of Gloin. In order to escape you must fulfill the one important task, the task so obvious and fundamental that no fanfic writer, however stupid, can lose sight of it."  
  
"Destroy the ring, you mean?" Gimli asked.  
  
"No! Do you know how many times it gets completely left out of the plot? Ring, what ring? Lost it between the couch cushions. Traded it for a diamond ring. Dropped it in my bowl of cheerios and accidentally ate it - but that was just once, mind you, and I was able to perform the heimlich manuver. Destroying the ring? No, of course not."  
  
"What is it, then?"  
  
"The main character has to fall in love with a girl - preferably an indescribably beautiful, half-elven girl who can fight, dance, and play a musical instrument - and sleep with her. Dying to save her life afterwards is probably optional."  
  
"Sleep with her? But Legolas is ugly, not to mention a dork! And Aragorn and Frodo are too busy planning the eigth and ninth wonders of the world to be erected in their honor."  
  
Gandalf looked amused, though Gimli had to wonder why. Everyone knew that Legolas, Frodo, and Aragorn were the only possible stars of a fanfic.  
  
"In the meantime, Gimli, you're going to have to be alert for underused characters and plot devices. Expect the opposite of everything."  
  
"Gandalf," Gimli asked, filled with both hope and dread. "What about orcs? They're overused, aren't they?"  
  
"No, my boy, you certainly won't be facing orcs. You'll be facing... you'll be facing... erm, I don't know. Kraken, or maybe Mewlips, or... oh, light, you might be facing the dreaded Neekerbeekers..."  
  
"Gandalf? What are Neekerbeekers?"  
  
But Gandalf only smiled in blissful ignorance.  
  
"Gandalf? *Gandalf*?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
***  
  
Note: There are actual evil creatures that go by those names! But be careful, if you look them up you'll spoil the surprise.  
  
*** 


	3. Attack of the Dreaded Neekerbreekers

Overcompensation  
Part 3  
  
***  
  
It was when the buzzing first started that Gimli realized how bad this was going to be. He thought he had known before, but really? No. Not at all. Maybe he had had an inkling of a premonition when Boromir suggested playing 'The Thinking, Feeling, and Doing Game', but the buzzing, man, that brought it home.  
  
"What're those sounds?" Sam whispered.  
  
"What *are* those sounds," Pippin corrected him. "Invalid contraction."  
  
"Fine, then, what *are* those sounds?"  
  
"I don't know," said Gandalf.   
  
"I do," Gimli answered the hobbit, shaking his head in dwarven despair. "I bet those sounds come from Neekerbreekers."  
  
"Neekerbreekers?" Sam and Pippin asked in horror. Pippin looked so terrified he didn't even seem to realize he had used a fragment instead of a sentence. Or maybe he did, he also looked slightly ill.  
  
"Wait, you know what they are?" asked Gimli.  
  
"Yeah," Sam replied, "that's our name for crickets. But Gandalf once said they had some particularly bloodthirsty cousins up north."  
  
"What else did he tell you?" Gimli started to say, but all of a sudden the Neekerbreekers were upon them. Aragorn, Boromir and the Hobbits immediately took shelter under Gandalf's robes. Gandalf looked as though he wanted to help, but didn't know how. Shouts came from underneath.  
  
"How dare they suck my blood? Did I give them permission?" cried Frodo.  
  
"They're going to pay! The only way they'll get away is if they've got a royal pardon and," Aragorn scoffed, "they're *so* not going to get that."  
  
"You know what?" Sam said, "My blood's just as good as yours! It flows just as red! Ow!" Sam sounded like he had just had his point proven.   
  
Legolas and Gimli turned to the fight. The elf pulled out an arrow from his quiver, aimed it at one of the Neekerbreekers and fired. With so many of the buzzing insects in the air, it should have been hard to miss. He did anyway.  
  
"I cut my finger!" Legolas cried out by way of excuse.  
  
"How?" Gimli called back, trying ineffectually to use his axe against the bugs. They neatly avoided his swings, no matter how precise he tried to be.  
  
"On the arrow, I think," said Legolas. Gimli didn't want to know.   
  
The bugs were everywhere, buzzing, biting, drawing blood. They avoided only Legolas - Gimli didn't know whether it was because it was compensation for the millions of torture fics or because the elf looked so damn unapetizing.  
  
"So this is it, we're going to die," Gimli said as he once again hacked ineffectually with his axe.  
  
"No, you won't!" came a call from the woods, and a brave, beautiful elf ran into the clearing. "I shall save ye, as I saved Frodo when he had been stabbed by the Nazgul! I shall battle hard, even as I did in the Battle of Fornost!" here the elf paused, and his ringing voice lowered a bit. "I suppose no one will remember this, either."  
  
"Glorfindel!" Gimli sighed gratefully.  
  
Glorfindel began shooting the neekerbreekers with his arrows. When he ran out, Legolas pulled his out of his quiver and handed them to Glorfindel, warning him, "Careful, they're sharp."  
  
Gimli watched in awe as the elf one by one shot down the dangerous Neekerbreekers. Determined to be of some help, he caught a Neekerbreeker in his cupped hands, pulled off its wings so it couldn't fly away, set it on the ground, aimed his axe, swung and killed it. "One," he said with satisfaction. When he went to find his next foe he saw that Glorfindel had finished them off.  
  
Aragorn, Boromir and the hobbits emerged from beneath Gandalf's cloak. Frodo in particular looked scared - Boromir was attempting to give him crisis counseling. Aragorn stood before Glorfindel and said gravely, "I am indebted to you, as are all my people. How might I reward you? Would you like a captainship? An ambassador ship?" His eyes lit up and he shoved Sam forward. "A serf?"  
  
"Hey!" cried Sam.  
  
Glorfindel looked at everyone like them like they were insane. "What's going on, Mithrandir?" the elf asked, turning with too much trust to the wizard. "Mithrandir?"  
  
"I don't know," Gandalf said.  
  
"Gandalf said before that we were caught in a... what did he say, a fanned fick?" Gimli said. Glorfindel spun around and looked at him in horror. Gimli asked, "So you know what that is?"  
  
"No," said Glorfindel, "but it sounds deadly. Go on, what else did Gandalf say?"  
  
"That it was overcompensation for something. And to expect the opposite of everything. But I don't know what to do! Swarms of bugs are attacking us, and members of the company are disapearing, and we haven't even started on the quest - "  
  
"Why haven't you?" Glorfindel interjected.  
  
"We don't have the supplies. Do you know how long it takes to get to Hollin? Months... years! We'll all look like Gandalf by the time we get there. Besides, in one of his more helpful moments he said it wasn't important."  
  
Glorfindel thought for a moment, then said, "Why don't you go see Elrond?"  
  
Elrond! The tough, wise, sensible Elrond he knew would be able to handle this.  
  
Wait a minute. The Elrond he knew?  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Elrond Halfelven was waiting for them. He took one look at their sorry state - dirty, bugbitten, tired - and began to laugh. Gimli was offended, but not surprised. He was getting cynical in his old age.  
  
Legolas, obviously wanting to slap some sense into the elven lord, pushed his way to the front, but when Elrond saw him he doubled over again.  
  
"Excuse me!" Legolas said, hurt.  
  
Elrond could not contain himself. "What happened to you guys? You fall in an ugly pit?"  
  
"Elrond, this is hardly the time - "  
  
But the elf lord began to chant. "U-G-L-Y you ain't got no alibi you're ugly, yeah, yeah, you're ugly!"  
  
Gimli and Glorfindel just stared.  
  
"You haven't got any alibi," Pippin piped up.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You haven't got any alibi," Pippin repeated.  
  
Elrond waved a hand in dismissal. "Whatever."  
  
Gimli reached out and moved the poor hobbit away from Elrond. Boromir whispered to him, "I think Frodo has gone missing, too."  
  
Groaning, Gimli looked and realized that there were only seven companions, plus Glorfindel.  
  
Elrond seemed to be trying to count them as well, but he sounded uncertain when he said, "I think there are still nine of you."  
  
"Can't you even count?" Gimli asked.  
  
"Who needs counting? Besides, I don't see why you need  
nine companions. It's not like it's symbolic or anything. It's not important."  
  
"Yes it is! It is important! Frodo's got the ring!"  
  
This seemed to get through to Elrond. Suddenly he looked small and very frightened. "He has the... ring?"  
  
"No, he doesn't!" cried Sam, and they all turned to him. "I've got it." He glared defensively at no one in particular. "I have a right, don't I?"  
  
"You just took the ring?" Legolas asked. "I can't believe this. Does no one remember that we're supposed to be on a quest? A *quest*? You can't just go around stealing rings."  
  
Elrond smirked. "Whatever you say, Ugholas."  
  
"What?"  
  
"That's what I'm going to rename you, if you don't shut up. Ugholas. I can do it, you know. I'm an elf lord."  
  
Legolas looked like he was going to cry. "That isn't even an elven name."  
  
"Who needs Elven names? I bet we'd all be better off if we didn't use elven names - " he started to say, but Aragorn cut him off.  
  
"You don't get to change people's names. I do! I'm the king!"  
  
"Well, I'm an elf lord. Beat that with a stick."  
  
"Pointy-eared pansy!"  
  
"You wanna step outside?"  
  
"You bet I do."  
  
The two walked towards the door, shooting angry glances at eachother. As they passed through, Aragorn halted and asked, "Arm wrestling?"  
  
Elrond nodded. "To the death."  
  
Everyone else shrugged and followed them outside. Everyone except Gimli, that is. He was too busy wondering how it could possibly get worse.  
  
*** 


	4. The Search for Mary Sue

Overcompensation  
Part 4  
The Search for Mary Sue  
  
***  
  
Glorfindel came back inside just a moment later, dragging Gandalf with him. "I don't believe this," he said. "Has the world gone insane?"  
  
"Yes," Gimli said solemnly. "It certainly has."  
  
"Well, how can we get it back?"  
  
"Gandalf said that the star of the story has to sleep with a Maria - a Mary Anna - with Merry - no that, can't be right. With a Maia? No, that's not it, either."  
  
"A Mary Sue, you fool of a dwarf! A self-insert! A non-canon character!" Gandalf said suddenly, then he got a blank look on his face again.  
  
"How does one go about finding one?" Gimli asked.  
  
"I don't know," said Gandalf.  
  
"I know!" Glorfindel said suddenly, his eyes lighting up.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"We'll have a party!"  
  
"A party? What good will that do?"  
  
"We'll invite hundreds of people," Glorfindel said like it was obvious. "Some of them are going to have to be Mary Sues."  
  
Gandalf was shaking his head as though he found this amusing. Gimli was beginning to get suspicious of the wizard's ill-timed lapses into stupidity. Then again, the dwarf thought, maybe it made up for all the incredibly providential things that usually happened to advance plots.  
  
"Gimli, are you listening to me?" Glorfindel was asking.  
  
"Yeah, it's as good an idea as any, I suppose," Gimli replied. "Let's go tell the others."  
  
When they got outside, they found that Elrond had swiftly beaten Aragorn and was now doing a victory dance. He clapped his hands together, jumped into the air, wagged his butt, and hurled an invisible object at the ground. "Boo - yeah!" the elf lord shouted.  
  
Gimli was deeply disturbed. Aragorn just sat there rubbing an injured arm, muttering that he had been cheated.  
  
"Ahem!" Gimli cleared his throat, and they all turned around to look at him. Gimli was actually starting to like the way he could instantly command their attention. He never had that ability before. "Tonight we are going to have a party."  
  
"A party? How horrible," Pippin said, and Sam nodded, adding, "Don't make it a dinner party. Don't make it worse by adding food."  
  
"A party?" Boromir squealed, and Legolas groaned, "Oh, no."  
  
"Is it like a prom?" Aragorn asked rapturously, getting up from the ground.  
  
"Maybe..." Gimli said warily. "Why?"  
  
"Can I be the prom king?"  
  
"Yes, Aragorn. Yes, you can."  
  
Meanwhile, Boromir had dragged Legolas off down a coridor, exclaiming that they were going shopping for party clothes and that he was going to raise the elf's self-esteem if it killed him.  
  
The rest of the group pondered the news with relative equanimity, although Elrond made some pointed remarks about how Aragorn could be prom king if he wanted but Elrond was lord of the frat party. Then Sam said that they should hold elections, after all, that was only "right".  
  
Gimli went to go plan.   
  
***  
  
Gimli surveyed the Rivendell ballroom (right next to the Rivendell Karaoke bar), looking at all the various people (and elves, and dwarves, and hobbits, and ents, and eagles, and dragons and... well, you get the picture). How could every single one of them be an actual character? Although, it was possible, Gimli thought. The proportion of ten men to every woman was about right.  
  
Oh, well, he had to start sometime.  
  
He began walking through the crowds and asking people for their names and positions in the story.  
  
One woman dressed in fish-net stockings whispered to him in a sultry voice, "Varda, darling. They had to start inviting the Valar to come so that the women wouldn't be completely outnumbered. Would you like to dance? I promise Manwe won't get jealous and smite you."  
  
"Um... thanks, but no thanks," Gimli replied, and backed away. A god? He had to go leave a *god* to find a Mary Sue?  
  
"Dwarf like dance?" said a loud, gruff voice from behind him, and Gimli turned, startled. "Ghan-buri-ghan will dance with dwarf!"  
  
"No, thank you," Gimli assured him, and backed away much quicker this time.  
  
He continued that way for most of the night. The others seemed to be having a good time of it - Glorfindel and Aragorn had met their namesakes and the latter one was getting an earful of advice on kingship. Gollum and a haughty elf that gave his name as Feanor were arguing over the relative merits of rings of powers versus Silmarils. A dainty little maiden named Eowyn was giggling and getting drunk in the corner.  
  
"Any luck?" Glorfindel asked as the evening wore down.  
  
"No," Gimli sighed. "Nothing. Everyone seems to be an actual person. I went around asking all their names - the women first, of course, but then the men. Because, " he shifted uncomfortably, "you never can tell. What's going to happen to all these people?"  
  
"They'll go home, I suppose. You know what, Gimli? We need to aim bigger."  
  
"Not another party?" Gimli eyes Legolas sympathetically. The poor elf was sparkling - not with an elven glow but with massive amounts of boromir-applied glitter that did nothing to hide his scowling, ugly face.  
  
"No. I was thinking... maybe a war?"  
  
***  
  
"Wow," said Gimli, looking over the vast army. "There's got to be a Mary Sue in there somewhere."  
  
Gandalf had found another plot island, but he sure was cranky. "You idiot! First you blithely suggest that there aren't enough lord of the rings characters to fill a ballroom and now you're trying to outwit whoever's behind all this by starting a war? It won't work!"  
  
"B-but-" Gimli stuttered, "surely there aren't that many - "  
  
"You forgot about crossovers!"  
  
All in all, Gimli talked to a large number of fictional high school students making incomprehensible pop-culture references, a slightly smaller number of aliens and vampires, several lawyers, some superheroes, a bunch of men dressed in green telling bad puns and claiming they were doctors and seven more men with strange accents claiming they were *the* doctor. He accepted their claims, but sent the last few to Pippin for an explanation of the proper application of articles in a sentence.  
  
Tired as he was, he still found it in himself to pat Glorfindel's should consolingly. "I think it was a good idea, no matter what Gandalf said. You couldn't have known this would happen."  
  
"Yeah," Glorfindel said glumly. "Only, what should we do now?"  
  
"Admit defeat," said Gimli. He gestured to where Aragorn was trying to woo Princess Leia. "This? This is just sadistic. Why even bother? Whoever's doing this is sick."  
  
Glorfindel and Gimli walked around, gathering the remaining members of the company to tell them of his decision. As he opened his mouth to speak, however, there was a flash of white light.  
  
A girl appeared. "God, you're gorgeous," Gimli whispered, immediately taken by her. She was wonderfully stout and thick, her face beautiful and wide, and when she saw him she gave him a great hairy grin.  
  
"Hello," she said in a deep dwarven voice. "My name is Shauna but you can call me Mary Sue."  
  
"Erm..." said Gimli.  
  
"So," she said, wiggling her unibrow. "Should we go get better acquainted?"  
  
Gimli's heart (and other parts of him) yearned desperately to go with her, but he bit his lip and said, "No."  
  
"What do you mean, no?" Shauna said, startled.  
  
"No. It's a matter of principle."  
  
"A matter of principle?" she echoed.  
  
"After what you've done to my friends, how can you think I would want you? You've made my life miserable. Look what you did to Elrond. Look what you did to Aragorn," his voice became slightly hysterical. "Look what you did to Legolas!"  
  
Gimli gathered steam as he went, and soon his companions came and stood behind him, looking menacing. Shauna glanced around nervously at the mass of people closing in on her.  
  
"Wait! Wait! I'm a Mary Sue! Isn't anybody going to protect me?"  
  
Boromir smirked. "You wrote this, sister."  
  
Comprehension dawned on Shauna's face. Shooting a look of unadultered lust at Gimli, she disapeared. A pile of angry Lord of the Rings characters piled onto where she had just been.  
  
When Legolas, who had been stuck on the bottom of the pile, finally got up, he held a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He squinted at it, squinted at it again, and then sighed and handed it to Gandalf.  
  
"What does it say?" Gimli asked. "Why can't he read it?"  
  
"Obviously, this is compensation for the incredible linguistic talents that people miraculously have in bad fanfics. It says, 'This isn't over'."  
  
Gimli pondered that a moment, then asked, "Wait... how come you can read it?"  
  
He recieved a withering glare. "Because this is a plot island and I'm Gandalf. Got that?"  
  
"You don't have to be so harsh," Gimli retorted. "Fat lot of help you've been. Tell me what you'd do differently!"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Gandalf looked as though he was going to cry. Boromir looked as though he were going to scold Gimli for making Gandalf cry. Gimli thought he was going to start crying himself. Instead he walked away.  
  
"Help," he whispered to the stars. "If anyone can hear me besides that horrid Mary Sue... Have pity on this poor old dwarf. Save me somehow. Save me."  
  
*** 


End file.
